


Drowning

by Thighkyuu



Category: X-Men
Genre: abuse/assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:55:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighkyuu/pseuds/Thighkyuu
Summary: Reader gets sexually assaulted and Peter comforts





	Drowning

 You hadn’t been the same recently, Peter could tell. The first moment he’d known something was wrong was the day you refused to let him pick you up. It was something he did often for your convenience, but that day - and all the days after - you hadn’t let him lay a hand on you. He’d accepted it, though he found it weird, and respected what you’d wanted. Then you’d stopped smiling. At first it had been little things, like not giggling at his jokes like you usually did or not cracking a smile when you saw him during the day. Then you’d simply… stopped. No one saw you smile anymore, and even the Professor had been concerned. He’d come to Peter asking if he knew, but he’d merely shaken his head. Apparently you were blocking everyone out, even the resident telepath.

 Then he’d noticed the way you shrank away from everyone. You weren’t as confident, didn’t speak as much, walked like you wanted to sink into the ground. He moved fast, so fast that everything around him moved in slow motion, and he saw the disgusted looks you gave yourself when you passed a mirror. He saw how uncomfortable you got around everyone. He saw and wondered and worried. You were pushing him - your best friend - further away every day. It was agonizing for him, but he respected what you wanted. He couldn’t hide his worry, though. The whole mansion knew something was up, but no one knew what.

 He wandered aimlessly through the halls, mind on you. You’d gotten thinner, paled, and there were constant bags under your eyes. Something was so wrong that he could feel your pain when he was around you, and he wanted to kick what or whoever had hurt you in the face. With a steel-toed boot that he could steal from Logan. He wanted so desperately to ask you what was wrong, to comfort you, but you’d shut him out, shut everyone out. There was nothing he could do to help, and that was destroying him, just like whatever had happened to you was destroying you.

 He snapped out of his thoughts, looking around. He’d ended up in front of the door to your room. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, had brought him to your door, but there he was. He stared at the thick wooden door for a long moment, fighting internally over whether or not to knock. You hadn’t left your room all day, no one had seen you, and anyone sent to check had been met with either silence or “go away.” He was getting increasingly more and more worried, and he couldn’t just ignore it anymore, as if he could to begin with. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door.

“Y/N? Can I come in?” There was a long, agonizing silence before he finally heard a faint reply.

“Sure, Peter.” He pushed the door open.

~

 You felt disgusting. You wrinkled your nose, looking away from the mirror in shame, closing your eyes. You were disgusting, your body was disgusting and violated. Worthless. That was what you felt you were. Worthless, disgusting,  afraid, and helpless. The feeling of helplessness hadn’t left you since it happened, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. It must have been your fault. If you’d just kept telling him to let go maybe it wouldn’t have happened.

 You squirmed in your clothing, feeling unclean despite the bath you’d taken mere hours before. You paced around your room, absentmindedly scratching at your skin, trying desperately to forget what happened. You need some distraction, any distraction you could find, but distractions were far and few for you.Despite all your efforts, the memory played over and over in your head, dominating your thoughts and consuming your soul. You were drowning, and there was no escape, no matter how much you wanted one.

 You couldn’t remember how it smelled. But God, you could remember everything you felt. The feel of his rough hands or the way his body pressed yours against the wall. You remembered feeling his hands everywhere, and how utterly confused and terrified you’d been. The memories flashed through your mind, preventing you from thinking of anything else. Why hadn’t you been able to stop him?

 You squeezed your eyes shut, scratching your arms harder. You wanted out of your skin, away from your mind. Nothing could distract you, not even Peter.  _Peter_. You’d shoved him away when the pieces had clicked into place, and it wasn’t right. He hadn’t done anything, no one in the mansion had, but you’d shut them all out anyway. You hadn’t even left your room today, how could you? You looked worse than ever, and you felt disgusting in your own skin. It was closing in on eight in the afternoon when you heard it. A knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Peter. You hesitated, eyes wide. _Relax, it’s just Peter. He’s probably worried sick._  You took a deep breath, pausing your pacing. You open your mouth, but the words are barely above a whisper.

“Sure, Peter.”

~

 He pushed the door open slowly, eyes forced to adjust to the dim lighting of your room. You were standing - cowering - in the middle of your room, one hand scratching your arm and the other at your mouth, your teeth gnawing on your nails. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were wide.

“Y/N?” He moved slowly, ignoring as his silver hair fell in his face.

“Peter.” You didn’t say any more than that, and you didn’t look up at him. He decided something then and there, and opened his mouth to speak. “What happened to you? Who did this? Is it me? Something I did? Was is Scott? I can beat him up if-”

“No, Peter.” Your voice is soft and shaky and your body is trembling. “It… it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t Scott. It wasn’t anyone in the mansion.” He watched, unable to do anything, as you simply fell into tears in front of his eyes. He moved to hug you, to comfort you, but you cowered away. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” You were seated in a fetal position now, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes squeezed shut.

“Y/N! What- what happened?” Peter backed up, startled by your reaction. How could he help? He’d never seen you like this, and it was simultaneously infuriating him and making him worry beyond belief. Whoever had done this was going to pay.

“The memories,” you sobbed, opening your bloodshot eyes to look at him, “make the memories stop!”

“Y/N, it’s okay, I’m here. Take a deep breath, okay? Hey, look at me.” He keep his voice soft and soothing, eyes trained on your face. You lifted your head slowly, locking eyes with him. Tears streamed down your face as you took several deep breaths, but your breathing did calm some. “What happened, Y/N?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke.

“I… he… I couldn't… my fault… I should've…” Your sentence was broken and shredded by your weakened state, and Peter wracked his brain for some semblance of a solution.

“Who is he?” The look of fear in your eyes sparked anger in him, but he shoved it down. Your lips moved, and no sound came out, but he saw the name your lips formed. Your ex. Two and two clicked in his mind and a rage he’d never felt before overcame him. “I will fucking  _kill_  that dickwad! I will rip his fucking dick off and  _make him eat it_!”

“Peter, please.” he could see your world crashing around you in your eyes. “It was my fault.”

“ _How_  could it be your fault, Y/N? You didn’t  _ask_  him to do what he did, he forced you to-”

“But it was  _my_  fault he did!”

“ _No, it wasn’t!_  Explain to me how it could possibly be your fault!”

“I… It was… I was wearing shorts and a crop top.”

“How does that make it your fault! If you were standing naked in front of me I could control myself, but this idiot can’t control himself when you  _are_  clothed? NO!” You cower away from Peter as his voice booms through the room, bouncing off the walls. He freezes, eyes wide. “S-sorry!”

“I’m- I’m sorry I made you mad, please- please don’t hurt me!” You whimper out the words, shrinking away from him. He blanched, tears forming in his eyes. He scared you, and now he was at a loss as to how to comfort you. All he wanted to do was comfort you and kill that son of a fuck, but he knew he couldn’t because it would only make you more upset. He stared as you shuffled away from him and into a corner, desperate to get as far away as possible.

“Y/N…” His voice was shaky, and he had gotten so nervous at the situation that his whole body was shaking too. He took a step toward you, reaching for you to try and calm you down. Your body stiffened, paralyzed with fear, preparing for pain. It broke him to see that you thought he was going to hurt you. He loved you, he would never hurt you. He felt hot tears slide down his cheeks, but ignored them. He was going to kill him. That fucker had broken you, taken you away and left behind a shell of what you were. An empty shell of the beautiful girl he’d come to love as more than just a friend. He was going to  _rip your ex to fucking shreds_.

 He stared at you, vision blurry, and retracted his hand slowly. Everything was so damn slow. He slid quietly to the floor in front of you, eyes trained on your face. Neither of you said anything for what must have been the longest moment in history. The life had drained out of him. He couldn’t stand to see you so broken, it was killing him.

~

 You watched as Peter sank to the floor in front of you, something like hopelessness written on his face. He stared up at you, dark eyes filled with more emotions than you thought possible as the tears slid down his cheeks. Your fault again. You pressed your back against the wall, sliding down to the floor as well and wrapping your arms around your knees. It was your fault. Of course it was your fault. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s fault but yours.

“I’m… I’m sorry I made you cry.” Your voice is barely audible, even in the silence. “I can’t-” Your voice broke, and you swallowed, more tears forming. “I can’t do anything right.” You saw his eyes focus on your face, his mouth parting slightly in surprise.

“Y/N, it’s not your fault, you didn’t make me cry. It’s that piss-bag you call an ex that’s making me cry.”

“But he didn’t-”

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice is soft and gentle as he speaks to you, “he raped you.” Something in your brain clicked, and you burst into sobs.

“He just… he wouldn’t stop! I tried to push him a-away and h-he just wouldn’t s-stop!” You could barely see through your tears, but you could hear Peter, and he was sobbing too.

“I won’t ever let him touch you again, Y/N, if it’s the last thing I do, he won’t touch you again.” You reached for him, and he pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You weren’t sure how long you both cried, just that you woke up sprawled on the floor, Peter’s arm still around you. You weren’t okay. You wouldn’t be okay for a long time… but you had Peter. And you would make it through this.


End file.
